Latest bit in the Creekbend tale, picking up from where the story to date (seen on the right hand side of your screen) we return to Creekbend, just moments before Deputy Ned sees the Sheriff's laid out in the office. Enjoy.
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Cort took in the general store, canned goods were on most of the walls, bulk good were near the counter. A couple young kids were ordering the eldery man behind the counter to show them what was in different candy jars.
“I want the black licorice!” exclaimed the blonde haired young girl. Cort guessed she might’ve been six. Her homemade dress showed a patch at the bottom of the skirt along her left leg. Her hair was tied up in pony tails.
“Ewww, Emmie, ” her companion said, a boy resembling her in appearance, shorter by about six inches. He was giving his sister a quizzical look of disgust.
Cort started to step a bit closer to the counter, when the gunshots from outside sounded. Four pairs of eyes turned. Cort moved first, he held out his left hand motioning the scared children back, as he stepped halfway out the doorway to see what was going on.
A cluster of people seemed to funneling toward the Sheriff’s office, but he could see the dust rail kicked up by a fleeing figure. A suspicion tried to form in Cort’s mind, but the young girls voice asked ,”Is it safe, mister?”
Cort saw no attention or threat directed their way. “Looks that way, but sit tight for a bit.”
The ground pounded under the horse’s hooves as Louis Odell fled town. The white and gray colored horse pushed on as Odell dug his spurs in. He’d left the rooftops of the southern end of Creekbend behind him . He’d turned the horse to the southwest, heading toward where the ranchers would be.
In his right holster rested one of the Sheriff’s guns that he’d taken, blood stained the butt of the gun. In his left, Cort’s gun sat, making a mismatched pair. He glanced back over his right shoulder, no one yet, but Odell knew they’d be coming. Maybe not the Sheriff, but probably his deputy and he might drag a few locals in.
Odell pushed the horse hard, he should still have enough time. Rickett’s was dead. The Sheriff had dangled that noose in front of Odell all morning; Odell’s word had no weight against the Peters. With Rickett’s death, the noose around his neck would tighten since Rickett had tried to muscle those boys into backing down, implicating Odell further.
Odell smugly grinned as the name on the arch came closer into focus, lettering carved out of the wood began to be more distinguishable. Odell wasn’t innocent in the first place, but he wasn’t going to hang just for making a living. Those boys had cost him his partner. He’d deal with them first, after that he’d deal with that Reb who’d gunned down his partner.
Odell unsheathed the Sheriff’s gun. He passed under the sign reading Peters Ranch. The house was just off the road that sloped down to the ranchland, stable closest to the road. He would hit them fast and hard, before they knew it was him.
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The Peters Ranch
Tom was asleep in the main room, and Michael Peters walked past. His brother throat was wrapped up. The doctor had been able to close the wound, but it had been difficult and taxing on his brother. Rest and a general order to keep him quiet had been the treatment. Tom had asked a couple of the boys from the neighboring lands to see if they could help him out a bit with the herd. They’d had a bit more volunteers than he expected. Today, only Jessie was needed.
Tom glanced out one of the main windows, looking toward the land that stretched out before him. He could see the horizon line where the grass met the sky.
He picked up the glass of water that Michael had been nursing, half empty. He circled around the couch where Tom slept to head back toward the kitchen.
Gunshots broke the midday silence, Tom dropped the glass without a thought. His steps breaking into a run and grabbing the rifle off the hooks over the front door, he turned to look at Michael who was now wide awake. Looking at his brother, Tom shook his head and pointing to his own eyes. He slid the gun over to his brother who picked it up, and checked it was armed. Tom pulled out his own pistol from the holster at his right side. His mother would’ve been mortified that he carried it around in the house, but she was buried and gone.
AN ENDING HAS A START
10 years ago
